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Never Been Kissed

Page 5

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I feel him sit down as his hand starts to roam up and down my back. He’s trying to comfort me. It’s working more than I’m willing to admit. I notice he stays away from the gun that is strapped to my back. It’s always there when I’m working. I haven't had a chance to strip it off yet. But I’m glad he doesn’t try to move it or take it off me. It gives me a sense of security that nothing else had until I’d felt how it was to be in his arms.

“Are there a lot of storms here?” Slowly I start to lift my head. I can hear the rain starting to come down more. The sounds of the wind whipping against the house get louder.

“It’s storm season now. You can expect a lot of this, but they usually don’t last too long.”

“It’s fine.” He grabs me, pulling me in close to him. The man really is a gentle giant. He probably thinks I’m crazy. This isn't me. I don’t cling to a man. Hell, I don’t cling to anyone. Though if I were to pick someone to do it to, he is a very nice option. I’d be a liar if I didn't admit I found him more than handsome. There is something about him that has my thoughts drifting to him. It’s not only my mind now but my body too. I feel safe with him. “I have a basement that is more than secure.” He tries to reassure me even more.

“Can I see it?” I ask. He stands as soon as the words leave my mouth. He keeps on carrying me. I should tell him to put me down, but thunder shakes the whole house. I think I’ll stay put for now.

“Sorry.” I feel my nails dig into him.

“You’re fine, kitten.” He opens a door, heading down the stairs into the basement. It’s then I realize I asked a man I don’t know to take me into his basement. No one even knows where I am.

“I told my brother about you,” I blurt out. Just in case he’s a serial killer. I don’t get that vibe from him, though. It would be really disappointing if he was. The first time I’m into a man and he wants to kill me.

“Okay.” I turn to look at what he’s doing when I hear beeping sounds from what I’m guessing is a keypad. I see I’m right when another door at the bottom of the stairs swings open.

“What the hell?” I wiggle free of his hold. He lets me down onto my feet. “This a bunker or something?” I step past the doorway into the room.

“It’s my basement.” He shrugs. I step deeper inside, taking it all in. The walls are all lined in concrete. There isn't much to it. One wall has a few guns mounted to it. The rest is almost like another house under the house.

“This isn't a basement, it's a bunker.” I point back toward the door we came through that is still hanging open. It’s almost a foot thick. I’m sure the walls are just as thick. I look up at the ceiling knowing they are. A bomb wouldn't touch you down here, let alone a tornado. This is some serious shit. Who is Davis? This basement sure as hell doesn't scream farmer.

“You like it?” he asks, his voice almost perking up. I turn to look back at him. His eyes are on me again. The same as they'd been when we’d been at Jameson’s.

“It’s neat. You wouldn't even know it’s storming out.” I lick my lips. When I’d pressed my mouth against him I was trying to steal a taste of him. I don’t know what has come over me. Something about him causes me not to think straight. I actually like it. There is this new thrill to it.

“Are you scared of storms?” He takes a step closer to me. My body instinctively moves closer to him too.

“Yeah, always have been.” For as long as I can remember. Probably doesn't help that I lost my parents to an accident that was caused by a storm. I used to watch the storms with my dad when I was younger, but the day my brothers sat me down to tell me about their accident had changed that for me.

“Anything else you’re scared of?” Davis breaks me from my thoughts, causing me to tilt my head back to stare up into his eyes. I didn't know eyes could be as dark as his. My heart does something in my chest. I could swear by the look on his face that whatever my fears are he’s willing to go to war against them. Now I’m thinking I might need to add him to that list. I don't need to lose my heart to any man. Dating never goes well for me.


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